Oh wow. Ducks. They’re swimming up to me. I can see their little webbed feet pumping hard against the current. Wish I had something in my pocket for them. I’m standing by this beautiful pool …

“Let me show you my favorite chicken neck place.” That’s me. Neighbor Kevin and I are crossing the border, heading south. “Your favorite chicken…what?” “Chicken necks, dude. You ever tried them?” He looks at me …

What Meshal is going through right now — “now” being the holy month of Ramadan, with its ban on eating while the sun is up — is not easy. But it has its consolations. “The …

Somehow, I seem to be stuck on a BBQ kick. Just can’t get enough of it. Take tonight: it’s dusk, and I’m looking across the street to the long, low Kansas City Barbecue, the last …

How do you get the best out of happy hour? Mandy and I think we have the perfect in: Bleu Bohème in Kensington. She knows the place. It looks expensive and French, but she says …

My neighbor Kevin is a particular guy. Knows what he likes. Right now, he has a sudden urge for OB. We’re on Newport. “In this town,” he says, “they have the best burgers.” He points …

In my search for Ukrainian food, I end up on ECB - El Cajon Boulevard. Talking North Park here. I’m outside Pomegranate, the Georgian-Russian restaurant of Golden Hill fame. Georgian owner Mark was the jokingest …

Some bars just get it. They know who they are. They make you feel you know who you are. I walk into this place on Cañon Street in Point Loma and I feel congeniality wrapping …

Goodness gracious. It’s Bob Hope, the stand-up icon from WWII. His voice echoes around the waterfront. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen… My grandfather was a famous naval hero […] You may have read about him: …

Honestly, I walked up through Old Town without a lot of hope. These have been tough days, specially for Congress, and I don’t mean DC. I’m talking about the Cinderella street, the one that always …

Say what? As my 929 stretch limo (read: bus) hauls me through National City, we pass a big ol’ sprawling furniture place that I remember used to take up most of the block here at …

Whew. Big relief. Kevin’s paying. Because in Poway, covid put paid to Happy Hour. At least here in the Players Sports Bar. Players is near the DMV and Walmart. And also — good for us …

Tuesday, 4 pm. Sixth Avenue is not exactly busy. The Hustler Hollywood store has a couple of old geezers staring at open bras on plastic models. I came here thinking more about my stomach. Hmm. …

Oh no! “Rosy! Rápido, por favor!” Rosy whips around. She makes a wild grab at the gull as he’s about fly over the cliff with my Bistro Burger. The wooden rail keeps her from launching …

Needed some company. Little Italy had plenty of people, but there was no real action at the Happy Hour places. Somehow ended up on Kettner. Somehow ended up opposite the Waterfront. Huh. No big mention …

Night has clanged down on City Heights like an emergency curtain at a movie theater. It’s easy to get lost in this gloom once you’re out of the #7 bus, but, just past Happy Bubbles …

Hot curry on a cold night? I think so. Besides, this place, as the day fades and the lights start winking on, just calls my name. “Come in! Get warm! Taste the chutney, the curry, …

Clickety-clack along the track! We’re rolling! The Pacific Surfliner snakes through the hills around Sorrento Valley, slowly, methodically rounding the canyon curves like a hunting dog following his nose. That distant horn I hear? Oh …

You look at Palmys and you straightway think Dunedin, Queenstown, Raglan. All those pubs are named after Kiwi hometowns. They have sprung up around ’Diego these last few years, and now here’s this new one: …

A Little Bit East of Eden There are also sharp disputes about Noah's Ark within the Creationist movement. Some years ago, in the ICR museum, I helped John Morris, their principal ark investigator, look for …

“Sure, I went to culinary school. The School of You Tube.” You’ve got to hand it to Dale. He seems to have single-handedly created this San Diego Empire of the Small Burger. Right now, I’m …

Say what? “You’re pouring the dinner onto the paper table cloth??” “That’s why we give you plastic gloves,” says Jordan. Then he’s off. And there I am, sitting with my puddle of sauce and potatoes …

Love surprises! Neighbor Kevin and I are coming out of the ocean after a lunchtime swim. Was it cold? You betcha, for the first minute. But once you’re body surfing, all you’re thinking about is …

This. Is. Fabulous. Talking about the new Blue Line. We’re zinging up where no trolley has gone before. New stations with unknown names like “Tecolote Road,” (Turns out “Tecolote” means “owl” in Nahuatl) and “Clairemont …

“This is North County, so let’s not expect cheap,” says my friend Diana. No sticker shock for her. She’s into swanky malls like this one, UTC. Problem: sign says the mall closes at eight, but …

Unexpected pleasure! Here, in the midst of Coronado’s Golden Quarter-Mile, is one of the secret bargains of the Sceptered City. I come across it as I’m loping north on the western side of Orange Avenue. …

It’s the colors, here in this neighborhood that’s celebrating with tacos and beer and lots of noise, half a block from 5th and University. “Escandalo!”, a gal’s singing again and again. It looks like a …

“Imagine Christmas,” says Trivikram, “but in India. That tells you what Diwali is like.” Trivikram (I have to ask what his name means. It means “Triple Victory”) and his buddies (Anupam, Sahana, Sindhu, Nikhil) all …

“Let’s go Japanese,” says Chris. “You mean chopsticks?” asks Erik. “Not really my thing.” There are four of us standing around here, dithering by the DMV in Uptown. It’s 4:30 pm. Chris calls his buddy …

“Dang!” says Kevin. “I’ve just spent $4000 on a filter system that produces alkaline water. I lived here in Carlsbad for three years, and never knew these guys were here.” He’s talking about this building …

I think I’m in love. Again. With tacos. I’ve been tramping the streets of Old Town. I can see it’s trying hard to get back on its partying feet. And yes, places like Cafe Coyote …

The green islands break up the windblown sheets of water. It looks like an archipelago seen from a plane. But we’re only on a bridge, 15 feet above the Sweetwater River. That’s just the start …

It’s heading towards nine in the am. People stand around impatiently, shoulders hunched, hands in pockets, looking up the steps to the deck like they’re waiting for the return of David Bowie. They’re about that …

I jump out of the cab. Cab burps off. What am I seeing? Oh yes. The red and blue Washmobile car wash. And the little slot in their building that accomodates Tortas Washmobile Originales. Been …

I had to travel 20 miles outta town to get my Stroganoff fix. I’m sure some downtown places have it, but it’s only here in Santee that my Stroganoff urge meets its match. We’re talking …

You know it’s corporate from the come-ons they have on the wall. “Handcrafted taste and flavor.” “Amazing experiences make for unforgettable moments.” “Every handcrafted piece of Bonchon chicken starts your experience.” I get it. Terms …

“Malaysian?” asks Kevin. We’re standing outside this little storefront place. It’s like so many others here on Mission Boulevard: small, quirky businesses, many from the ’50s, most of them appealing to the surf culture. Except …

My two friends Erik and Chris said I had to do this. “It’s not that cheap, but you get so much, you have two meals for the price of one, guaranteed,” said Chris. He was …

The blue flame dances in and out of focus. The Green Fairy sparkles in front of my eyes. I can feel her hypnotizing me. I’m seeing seven veils, I’m thinking “Scheherazade,” “Salome.” My eyelids are …

‘OORAH!” This is Kevin, popping his head through the window. He’s an ex-Marine. Also a neighbor. We’ve started these five o’clock follies, always involving grog, arguments, and lots of snacks, from peanuts to carrot sticks …

How many times have I potholed my way up University, juddering past this place and watching it transform from a lamp store, think it was, to this so-cool coffee, food, cool-merch emporium, right next to …

My favorite comfort food? This is my favorite comfort food. A soup that is making beads of sweat pop from my brow, that sends peppery shafts radiating out into my gills. Then the flavor that …

So how has the Gaslamp fared through covid? Walking up Fourth around Market, got to say, not too well by the looks. Lot of doors closed, patios empty, and the ones that are open, not …

Oh man. I do this every time: show up at my wannabe favorite place, Chennai Tiffins, just as it’s closing for the afternoon. This is in Little India, up by Miramar. I sit down in …

I knew it was going to be a difficult day when I locked myself out. “We have to be there by 12, remember?” yelled Tim. He was waiting in his car. The guy has a …

Last week’s tortilla-throwing incident came just as I was discovering a new dimension in San Diego’s tortilla/taco world. It was an accidental discovery. I got off the 235 rapid bus after an hour-long ride (and …

“Okay, I give up,” Mag says. “Why is this place called Pegah’s Kitchen?” “Because it’s a breakfast place and ‘Pegah’ means ‘Dawn’ in Persian. Breakfast time!” I’m guessing about that last part, because this is …

Is the world going Korea-kerazy? Might could be. Not just K-Pop. Also KBBQ. Everywhere I look, there’s another Korean barbecue joint popping up. “Missy wants to go there,” says Maggy on the phone. “It’s good …

Eduardo Gonzalez guards the door to the dungeon, as he has been doing for decades. Nobody gets past without his say-so. The neon sign shines red. Sótano Suizo. “Swiss Cellar.” Swiss in TJ? Well yes. …

Oh mama. I was counting on these guys. Just hopped off the 44 where Linda Vista Road meets Mesa College Drive. ’Cause I know a couple of über-cheap places where I can pick up a …